


Russia

by BaffledFox



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blurb, Gen, Jim-centric, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaffledFox/pseuds/BaffledFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim gets stabbed. Sebastian is in Russia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Russia

Jim was sitting on the coffee table, legs crossed, suit jacket neatly folded on the couch, tie loose and shirt unbuttoned enough to edge it off his shoulder. The once white sleeve was an ugly red-brown due to the deep stab wound.

It had been a rather annoying day.

Sebastian was still in Russia, would be probably for a few more weeks. Jim had walked into a trap(that he had sort of been expecting) with only two men on his side. Though, everyone was dead now, he had used one man as a shield but still ended up getting stabbed.

It stung and tingled, though hard to tell if there would be permanent damage. Jim was no doctor, but he knew enough, or at least enough to manage.

Having applied the ointment and disinfectant awkwardly with his right hand he tried to thread the needle; taking over five tries before he managed.

It was still bleeding but not as bad as earlier; his shirt staunched most of it. He could have tried to call someone, have someone else tend to the wound, but after that fiasco he had to reevaluate his employees.

So, he guided the needle into his already inflamed skin, buried the curses under his hissing breath and forced his shaking, uncoordinated hand to continue the work until the wound was sloppily sealed.

He dabbed away the remaining blood; the stitching not completely crude but a professional—or at least if he had the ability to use his dominant hand, could have done better.

It might scar.

Probably would.

Moriarty’s mood wasn’t the best to begin with, but with that revelation it was worse.

He swept the first aid box off the table in a dramatic sweep of his arm; the contents exploded into the couch, scattering on impact. He got up from his seat, paced, rage burning just under the surface of his skin; a snarl on his face.

He gripped the phone in a white knuckled grasp and began to text as best he could:

Some loose ends need to be tied up. You know that meeting? Went downhill. It was a trap, I was sort of expecting Edmond to be a spy, but not the other three. It was a massacre, Sebby, and not the fun kind. - JM

I even got stabbed. You’re away on holiday and I get stabbed. - JM

I should fire you for this. Taking so long. How long does it take? It’s just one tiny Russian mafia. Really. I didn’t think it would be longer than two weeks. - JM

I have other jobs for you. - JM

Christ, it’s going to scar. I just know it is. This is just unacceptable, Sebastian, entirely unacceptable. -JM


End file.
